


Sanity

by harold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, M/M, Rehab, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harold/pseuds/harold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Harry are still hurting, but at least they’re doing it together now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted to my writing blog on tumblr. Definitely one of my favorite things to have written, hope you all agree:)

“I’m Niall.”

Was the first thing he said to Harry.

“I’m bullimic,” was the second.

“So?”

“ _So_ , we’ve been living together for a month and I don’t even know your favourite colour.”

Harry sat up, and stared at Niall, whose bed was on the other side of the room. He was sitting at the edge, waiting patiently for an answer. 

Harry laid back down and turned to face the wall.

-

He walked into the small cafeteria and sat down next to a head of curls with a slouch.

“Hello,” Niall said, far too happily, in Harry’s opinion.

“Is this going to become a problem?”

“What?”

“Are you going to be talking to me all the time?”

“Well, yeah.”

He turned and faced Niall, glaring.

“So have you got anything valuable to say or are you just going to sit there and continue to not eat anything?”

The smile on the blond’s face slid off, and he looked at his hands. He sat there, still, for what seemed like an hour.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hands shaking, he reached for a cookie on Harry’s plate and brought it to his mouth. 

Taking a tiny bite, Niall glanced at Harry, then took another. Slowly, but surely, he finished it, quickly swiping at his eyes after he swallowed. More tears were freed from his eyes, but he rubbed them off, grabbing Harry’s cup and drinking the entire thing.

Harry looked at the slightly unstable looking boy beside him, who seemed smaller than he’d ever seen. 

Gradually, Harry smiled.

“Orange.”

-

“Why don’t you smile more, Harry?”

“Because I live in a fucking rehab, Niall, darling,” he replied.

“I smile.”

“That’s because you’re a nice person.”

“So are you.”

“I ignored you for a month.”

“That’s not an unusual thing for people to do.”

Harry sat up, and squinted, trying to see Niall in the dark.

“Why, and  _how_  would anyone ignore you?”

“Would you like a list?”

Harry swung his legs out of bed, then got up and stretched. He sat down on Niall’s bed. He could make out his face in the low moonlight. 

“Humour me.”

“I’m fat,”

“You weigh one-hundred and twenty pounds.”

“ugly,”

“Bullshit.”

“and gay.”

“So am I?”

Niall frowned. “Was that a question?”

“No, but it kinda came out like one.”

“Huh.”

Harry laid down beside Niall, and watched him close his eyes. Harry wrapped an arm around his body and one of Niall’s came around his neck. 

After a moment Niall drowsily opened his eyes again, looking down at Harry. 

“Does that mean that, if I kiss you, like I want to, you won’t shoot me?”

Harry smiled shyly.

“You won’t know until you try.”

 

-

 

They were laying on a small hill in the garden of the centre, looking at the darkening sky. It was late July. They’d been there for two months now.

“The doctors say I’m getting a lot better,” erupted Niall’s voice from the quiet afternoon.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re saying it’s a miracle how quickly things are going.”

“Mine told me I’m doing better as well.”

Silence.

“Harry?”

“Niall?”

“What are you here for?”

“I…”

Harry crossed his legs and pushed himself up. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Niall sat up as well, leaning forward to look at Harry. 

“You’d be so disappointed.”

Niall scoffed, “I stick my hand down my throat.”

Harry inhaled deeply, lowering his head until all Niall could see was a bush of brown hair.

“And I… I play with sharp objects.”

He slowly pulled back the sleeve of his sweater, squeezing his eyes tightly as he felt them flood. 

Niall held his hand and gently pulled the exposed arm toward himself, running his fingers over its pale wrist. It was covered in scars, a few looking relatively new. There were many short, horizontal cuts intersecting one long, dark scar. Niall fixed his eyes on this one, stroking it with the pad of his thumb. 

“When’s the last time?”

“Thursday.” It was Sunday,

Niall continued to sweep his thumb across Harry’s wrist. He raised it to his lips and kissed it lightly. 

“I can’t stop you.”

“I know.”

Niall began to tremble, his hands tightening around Harry’s wrist as he cried.

“You’re amazing, Harry, why can’t you see that?”

He reached up and lifted Harry’s chin. His friend’s green eyes were drowning in unshed tears. 

Harry chuckled, the drops falling onto his cheeks.

“I could say the same to you, dumb ass.” He picked Niall’s hand from his chin and played with his fingers.

“We’re gonna get out of here, yeah?”

Niall smiled, drying his eyes with his sleeve. 

“Absolutely.”


End file.
